In a single night, the empire changed hands.

Guang Yan killed his father and committed regicide in his bid for power, but was captured and convicted by Fourth Prince Guang Shuo, who was aided by the General of Returning Virtue. Before Emperor Wen Xuan passed away, he had already issued an edict changing the crown prince’s succession. After the emperor was entombed, the coronation ceremony proceeded as planned – only the one ascending the throne was Guang Shuo instead of Guang Yan.

No one in court dared oppose this.

Guang Shuo’s actions were ruthlessly decisive, contrary to his normally gentle and quiet demeanor. When capturing Guang Yan the previous night, he had already arrested all of Guang Yan’s trusted confidants. Guang Yan’s military force was never strong to begin with. Though he once had the He family’s support through Xu Jing Fu’s connection, after He Ru Fei’s downfall, the Yu Yue Army’s military power was recalled and could not be used by the Crown Prince.

Guang Shuo’s swift and thorough elimination of threats sent chills through the court. Court officials whispered that the Fourth Prince was already showing signs of imperial authority.

The former emperor’s edict ordering palace women to be buried alive was discovered to be fake. Imperial Consort Lan, Noble Lady Ni, and dozens of other women were spared. When word spread to the common people, they praised the Fourth Prince’s mercy and wisdom.

The common people never cared who sat on the throne. As long as they had clothes to wear and food to eat, it didn’t matter who was emperor.

The court officials wouldn’t oppose either. Within the Great Wei royal family, Fifth Prince Guang Ji was still young. Only Guang Shuo could handle state affairs.

After Emperor Wen Xuan was entombed, in Qing Lan Palace, Imperial Consort Lan removed her heavy ceremonial robes. Just as she sat down, someone entered from outside.

It was Noble Lady Ni.

“Congratulations, Sister, on finally achieving your wishes,” Noble Lady Ni sat down at the small table with a forced smile. “Before long, I shall have to address you as Empress Dowager.”

Imperial Consort Lan looked at her, her gaze as gentle and calm as ever. “Noble Lady Ni, at least you’re still alive now.”

Noble Lady Ni was stunned.

That day, when Wei Xuan Zhang died by hitting his head outside Cheng Le Palace, it brought the conflict between the Crown Prince and Great Wei to a breaking point. The Crown Prince’s violent obsession, combined with her impending burial in the emperor’s tomb, had led Noble Lady Ni to cooperate with Imperial Consort Lan.

Guang Ji’s words were false, and the succession edict may not have been genuine either. In the end, Guang Shuo only needed an excuse – a legitimate excuse.

In truth, Noble Lady Ni had approached it as a last resort, thinking that death was certain either way, so she might as well take a chance. But deep down, she hadn’t believed Guang Shuo would succeed.

Yet Guang Shuo did succeed.

People spoke of it lightly now, but after just one night, Noble Lady Ni finally realized that if this had been merely an impulsive decision if Guang Shuo had only fought for his mother’s sake, he couldn’t have gained the support of the General of Returning Virtue and General Feng Yun in such a short time.

Perhaps what happened in the Imperial Hall last night had been foreseen by Imperial Consort Lan many years ago.

Thinking deeper, perhaps Imperial Consort Lan wasn’t truly ignorant of Emperor Wen Xuan’s death at Guang Yan’s hands.

Guang Shuo’s silence and gentleness, his mercy and disinterest in state affairs, Imperial Consort Lan’s lack of ambition and grace, Emperor Wen Xuan’s love and sincerity – all of these had been arranged by Imperial Consort Lan long ago. From beginning to end, it wasn’t that Guang Shuo’s acting was too good, but that Imperial Consort Lan’s plans were unknown even to her son.

Empress Zhang might have guessed one thing correctly: Imperial Consort Lan wasn’t unambitious – she simply didn’t care for ordinary favors. When she fought, she fought to secure the most prestigious position in the world for her son.

So the Crown Prince was destined to lose because he didn’t have a mother who could conceal herself and lie in wait for years without showing any flaws.

Guang Ji was still young, and from today onward, no one in the Great Wei royal family could match Guang Shuo.

A chill slowly crept into Noble Lady Ni’s heart. The woman before her had gentle features, and in all these years, she had never been seen angry or scolding. But it turned out she was the most frightening of all.

“I… am grateful just to be alive,” Noble Lady Ni lowered her head, her voice unconsciously carrying hints of humility and fear. “From now on, I will faithfully follow you, Your Grace. As for Guang Ji… I hope you will look after him.”

Imperial Consort Lan didn’t respond, only gazing out the window. After a long while, she turned back, as if just hearing Noble Lady Ni’s words, and nodded slightly, closing her eyes. “Very well.”

At the Crown Prince’s residence, chaos reigned.

Servants cried and wailed as soldiers dragged them away. The Crown Princess screamed as she was taken, her nails leaving long scratches on the wall as she was led out.

Someone walked slowly, making their way to the innermost courtyard, to the last room.

This was a secret chamber. Crown Prince Guang Yan was cruel and vicious – those who offended him were lucky to be killed outright. The more unfortunate ones were locked in this secret chamber of the Crown Prince’s residence and tortured until they wished for death.

Now that the residence had fallen, the soldiers were busy arresting household members, paying no attention to this place.

A young man walked slowly, his clean boots stepping on the damp ground. The chamber was dark, and in the dim lamplight, dark stains could be seen – some dried, some still gleaming, seemingly blood.

The place was built like a prison, with iron bars separating the rooms, and no guards. Hearing movement, the people inside barely reacted, at most lifting their heads briefly before lowering them again – everyone here was at death’s door, and none believed anyone would come to save them.

Despair filled this place.

He walked slowly, stopping at each cell door to carefully examine the occupants’ faces as if trying to identify someone. When he didn’t find who he was looking for, he moved on.

He checked room after room until he reached the last one.

A figure lay curled up on the ground like a child, lying on their side, arms wrapped around their shoulders, head tucked low against their chest. Their clothes were in disarray, and though they didn’t move when he approached, their body began to tremble slightly.

Chu Zhao’s steps faltered.

He looked at the figure inside, and after a moment, opened the door.

The person still didn’t move, didn’t even look at him. Chu Zhao walked to their side and slowly knelt, seeming to want to comfort them but not knowing how. After a moment, he spoke softly: “Ying Xiang.”

The person before him shuddered violently.

“Ying Xiang,” Chu Zhao paused, then said, “The Crown Prince is dead. I’ve come to take you back.”

He reached out to help Ying Xiang up, but she tried to block him. However, she seemed to have no strength, and her resistance was futile. Chu Zhao helped her sit against the stone wall and brushed aside the tangled hair covering her face, then froze in shock: “You…”

“…Don’t look…” Ying Xiang said weakly.

Her once devastatingly beautiful face was now covered in terrible knife wounds. Without proper treatment, the wounds hadn’t scabbed over and were still bleeding, making her look like a vengeful ghost come to claim lives – both shocking and horrifying to behold.

Chu Zhao was deeply shaken.

The night before Guang Shuo went to Cheng Le Palace, Chu Zhao had gone to the Fourth Prince’s residence.

He had seen clearly that Guang Yan was no match for Guang Shuo, and Empress Zhang was no match for Imperial Consort Lan. He truly had no other path – even if he followed Guang Shuo now, Guang Shuo would never trust him. But following Guang Yan meant certain death.

When Xu Jing Fu was alive, he had told him to learn to make choices.

He chose to make one final deal with Guang Shuo.

He revealed all of the Crown Prince’s military arrangements, betraying him in exchange for a condition that would allow both him and Ying Xiang to live. He no longer hoped for any career advancement – that was impossible now. Though he didn’t know if this bargain for survival would succeed, at least staying alive for now was something.

At the time, Guang Shuo had looked at him, seemingly surprised that Chu Zhao would make such a request, and only asked: “Fourth Young Master Chu, if you value your servant girl so highly, why did you initially send her to Guang Yan’s side?”

“Since you sent her as a spy, there should have been no other emotional attachment. Now at this crucial moment, having no other requests except for this woman makes one wonder.”

Chu Zhao replied softly: “I don’t understand either.”

For him, there was nothing and no one in the world that couldn’t be used. Yet somehow, every time, he would end up with these weaknesses that shouldn’t exist.

It was true with He Yan, and now with Ying Xiang as well.

Looking at Ying Xiang before him now, he found himself at a loss for how to react.

Ying Xiang only glanced at him once before quickly burying her head, as if afraid of staining Chu Zhao’s sleeves, and fell silent.

From outside came the faint sounds of soldiers’ shouts and servants’ wails. Ying Xiang listened carefully for a moment, then asked: “…Is the Crown Prince dead?”

Chu Zhao came back to his senses and said softly: “Yes. You can leave the Crown Prince’s residence now.”

Upon hearing this, Ying Xiang showed no joy. Instead, she seemed to retreat slightly, saying: “No…”

“Don’t you want to return with me?” Chu Zhao asked.

“Fourth Young Master,” her voice was as soft as the most fragile silk, ready to tear at the slightest pull. Ying Xiang said: “This servant cannot leave.”

Chu Zhao was stunned: “Why not?”

As if after great struggle, Ying Xiang slowly extended her hand, lifting her sleeve. Chu Zhao’s eyes suddenly widened. Her skin, once as pure as snow, was now unrecognizable – as if burned by fire and crushed, showing signs of festering wounds.

“The Crown Prince made this servant consume an incurable poison,” Ying Xiang said. “This servant… is waiting for death.”

Guang Yan had hated her betrayal and disloyalty, and for the disloyal, he had countless methods of torture. Since Ying Xiang was born with extraordinary beauty, he destroyed her looks. He wanted her to die most devastatingly and cruelly possible – watching as her last inch of intact skin rotted away, until even in death, she would be revolting to behold.

This was the ultimate way to destroy someone’s spirit.

At that moment, Chu Zhao felt an overwhelming sense of bewilderment, an emotion he hadn’t experienced in many years. He looked at Ying Xiang helplessly and said: “It’s alright, once we leave, I’ll find doctors to treat you.”

“It’s useless,” Ying Xiang gave a bitter laugh. “This servant knows there’s no hope left.”

The torch on the wall flickered quietly, illuminating half of her blood-stained face with terrible clarity, with no trace remaining of her former stunning beauty.

Chu Zhao stared at her blankly. He had known Ying Xiang would suffer in Guang Yan’s hands, but he never imagined it would come to this.

Living, yet worse than death.

“This servant… has one request.”

“Tell me,” he said.

“In this servant’s life, I had nothing except my looks,” Ying Xiang raised her hand as if to touch her face, but stopped midair. “Now my face is ruined, and I’ve been poisoned with no cure. This servant doesn’t want to die looking horrified. Fourth Young Master… could you grant me a quick death?”

“You want me to kill you?” Chu Zhao looked at her in shock.

“This servant’s life was saved by the Fourth Young Master in the first place. Dying by your hand would be fitting. Moreover,” the woman’s voice was soft, “Fourth Young Master wouldn’t be harming me, but helping me.”

Chu Zhao said: “I won’t kill you.”

“Then please leave,” the usually obedient servant showed determination for the first time. “This servant will stay here, nowhere else.”

“Ying Xiang,” Chu Zhao was at a loss with her for the first time. He patiently said softly: “Your wounds aren’t beyond hope. Many doctors in Shuo Jing can heal you.”

“Even if healed, what then?” Ying Xiang smiled faintly. “This servant has lost her beauty and can’t even take care of herself. Staying by Young Master’s side, unable to serve, would only be a burden.”

Hearing this, Chu Zhao’s expression shifted slightly. He asked: “Is serving me the only reason you stay by my side?”

“Young Master doesn’t keep useless people,” Ying Xiang answered.

Her words carried a hidden barb. He had no response.

“Years ago, when this servant was being sold like merchandise by her father, Young Master saved me. Since then, Young Master has been this servant’s benefactor and parent. This servant would go through fire and water for Young Master without hesitation. Everything this servant did was willing. But now, near death, this servant hopes to decide her fate.” Ying Xiang looked at him, those beautiful docile eyes showing determination like sparks for the first time. “Please grant this servant’s wish.”

Their eyes met, and Chu Zhao could see her determination to die.

He discovered for the first time that Ying Xiang could be so stubborn and persistent.

“Please grant this servant’s wish.” The woman before him struggled to kneel, and as she moved, the terrible wounds on her body became visible, emanating a stench of rotting blood. She bowed as respectfully as when Chu Zhao first met and bought her, confused and anxious.

She wouldn’t live long – even if she didn’t die now, she wouldn’t survive much longer.

Chu Zhao closed his eyes briefly: “I agree.”

“Thank you, Young Master.” Ying Xiang said softly.

Chu Zhao reached out to help her up from the ground. As Ying Xiang stumbled to her feet, the hand behind her suddenly thrust forward.

The knife’s tip entering the flesh was silent.

She had no time to speak before falling forward into Chu Zhao’s embrace. He released the knife and held her, kneeling on the ground.

“…Thank you, Young Master…” Ying Xiang looked at him, struggling to smile at him. “This is the first time Young Master has granted this servant’s wish.”

Her body was covered in old and new bloodstains, which stained Chu Zhao’s clean robes like scattered flowers. The man looked down at her, his gaze somewhat lost.

This hint of uncertainty in his eyes caused Ying Xiang’s heart to ache intensely.

She had loved Chu Zhao since first sight. In that desperate moment, when her father was forcing her into a terrible fate, a handsome young man had thrown her a lifeline. She had grasped that lifeline and fallen in love with him.

She loved his cultured grace and his ruthlessness. She loved his seemingly generous heart that concealed complete indifference and the occasional vulnerability beneath his invincible facade.

He was such a complex person – as complex as he was unfortunate. Fate made him contradictory. The Chu Zi Lan others saw was false; only she knew the real Chu Zi Lan. The real Chu Zi Lan was no good man, yet she still fell in love without hesitation, like a moth to a flame.

Over these years by Chu Zhao’s side, Ying Xiang had endured Madam Chu’s mistreatment, harassment from the three elder legitimate sons, Xu Ping Ting’s overt and covert attacks, and finally being sent to the Crown Prince’s residence, leading to this end. She never regretted it.

Because from the beginning, she had nothing to lose.

She had felt hatred and resentment toward him, but love overwhelmed all else. This love was carefully hidden, utterly humble, yet came like a storm, making even her think herself unreasonable. Never speaking it aloud, she had loved him silently all these years.

Chu Zhao was too clever not to have noticed her love.

“Young Master…” she struggled to speak. “May this servant… ask one question?”

The man’s voice was very soft, treating her with his usual gentleness: “Ask.”

“Did Fourth Young Master know early on… that Miss Xu would send this servant to the Crown Prince’s residence?”

Chu Zhao looked down at her.

Those pale jade-like eyes rippled with emotion. He didn’t answer, but Ying Xiang instantly understood.

“…So that’s how it was.” After saying this, she slowly closed her eyes, her breath gradually weakening until there was no life left.

In the dark chamber, the man in blue robes quietly looked down at the woman in his arms. Before his eyes appeared a scene from many years ago – standing before that colorful pleasure house, hearing soft sobs among the countless noisy voices. Following the sound, he had seen a delicate young woman looking at him, beautiful as a peach blossom.

He had saved her, yet also harmed her. Perhaps if he hadn’t intervened then, Ying Xiang might have lived more happily than now. Unlike her present fate, where even in her final moment in this world, she departed with bitterness.

She had done nothing wrong – if anything, her only mistake was loving someone like him.

After some time, Chu Zhao bent down and lifted Ying Xiang’s body, slowly walking out of the dark chamber, step by step toward the outside.

At his dead end, he had made one final deal with the Fourth Prince, seeking just a bit of warmth, but now even that warmth was gone. Having lost the last person who depended on him, in this game of chess, he had gained nothing.

He had lost everything.